Retribution 1: Consequences
by LANIKI
Summary: After House drove into Cuddy's dining room, he ran away to the tropics.  Where did he go?  What did he do there?  And why did he come back?  House and OFC, drama and romance.  Please enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! I'm back with a new one for you. This story is Part 1 of a two part story. Of course it is House/OFC. Those who have read me before know that. If you're new to my stories, welcome, but be warned, there be no Huddy here (*shivers at the thought*). **

**This story came about from a discussion with my fellow OC writers about where House went after the disastrous Season 7 finale. I started thinking about that and created this story with a heroine that I have been wanting to use for a while.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy this one. Reviews are like crack to writers.**

**Chapter 1**

"He's a bum." Tom said in disgust.

"You think everyone is a bum." Julia told him, with a smile.

"He is."

"Why? He pays for his scotch. He hasn't asked us to give him any freebies."

"Look at him! He's been wearing the same shirt every single day he's come in here. And he comes in here every single day."

She shrugged. "He could just be short on cash. Lots of people are these days."

"Then he should go get a job."

She shook her head. "Have you read any of the news? It's not so easy to do."

Tome waved his hand dismissively. "There's jobs if you want them. You found the job here."

"Only because you'd rather spend your days fishing than tending bar. I was lucky. Not everyone is."

"Well, speaking of fishing, today in the boat wore me out. I'm gonna take a nap. Keep your eye on that one. I don't trust him."

"You also don't trust anyone."

"'Cept you." He walked out while Julia stayed and wiped off the bar. As she did, she glanced at the man in question. Not because Tom had told her to, but because he was interesting.

He was probably only a few years older than her, very tall and with the most striking blue eyes she had ever seen. The cane leaning against the wall by the table where he sat was not an affectation. She saw him lean on it as he walked, the limp pronounced. His face was worn, but in a good way and the scruff of beard only made him more so.

There was intelligence in that face, but pain as well and not just from his leg. She wondered what he was running away from. That he was running away was a given. Everyone here was running from something. Even her.

San Paolo Island - San P to the residents - was too small to really attract many tourists. Oh, there were some. Their mayor often convinced (read: bribed) travel agents to send people here, but they usually didn't return. Not that the island lacked the beach and sunshine. It had that in spades. But the town was …shabby. Not just the buildings, but the people as well. Most had wandered here while traveling to one of the larger Caribbean islands and had stayed when they realized they could hide here. There were a few natives, but not many. Most of them had moved on to better tourist islands where they could get good jobs.

Industry in the town was practically non-existent. There was some commercial fishing and a small cannery which employed most the residents who didn't work in the miniscule tourist trade. There were two or three small motels, a long way from five star. They'd be lucky to claim a half a star. Still, they were decent enough for the few tourists that came. Two of the motels had small restaurants in them and there was one other nice restaurant. Tom's, the bar where Julia was currently staring at the man, was just that – a bar. Oh, he served some barely edible sandwiches, but it was certainly not a culinary paradise.

The man usually came in around two in the afternoon and ordered a scotch. He nursed it for as long as he could before ordering another. He sometimes ordered a third, but that was pushing it. And she could see him wobbling when he left after three. He never ordered food, and by the time he left, it was early evening.

Julia wondered if he ever ate. He was slim when he first came in, but he seemed even thinner now. He'd been coming in about three weeks now. She'd seen him going into Ralph's motel. He must be staying there, which was probably a good choice, since it was the cheapest place on the island.

When a sandwich was slipped onto the table in front of him, House looked up. The woman, the day bartender, was standing there.

"I didn't order this." He told her.

"I know." She said. "But you look like you need it."

"I'm not paying for it."

"You already did. You get a free sandwich with every three drinks. I figured you have about a dozen coming to you."

He knew she was lying and she knew that he knew. She didn't bother to hide it in her expression. If he refused it, he'd be acting out of stubbornness only. If he took it, well, what would it hurt really?

Besides, if attractive women wanted to feed him, who was he to refuse?

She was attractive. He had noticed that the first day he'd come in. Which was one reason why he'd kept coming back to this bar. She was tall, with a few curves. She could lose a few pounds, but she wasn't fat. Her short brown hair was pulled back from her face with a wide hair band. Mostly, he assumed to keep her hair from getting into the drinks. No one could accuse her of being a fashion plate, with her knee length shorts and loose t-shirt. Still, they were clean, and he'd seen different ones on her, so she owned more than one set. Her green eyes were visible despite the glasses that she wore, as was the hint of sadness in them even though she was smiling at him.

She saw the look of curiosity and speculation that he gave her. She sat in the other chair.

"Whoa," he said, "I didn't realize the sandwich came with strings. Do I have to talk to you to eat?"

"No. Just taking a short break. Gets tiring behind the bar."

"Yeah, the crowds in here must be hard to handle." He replied sardonically and she chuckled.

"I know. Most days, you're the only one in here for most of the time. A few guys from the cannery come in after work, but we don't exactly get a rush. That's why Tom lets me handle it so that he can go fishing. Or, actually, napping in his boat with a fishing pole beside him."

"He pay you a lot to do this?"

"No, he pays me very little. But I get to keep my massive tips." She said with an exaggerated expression. "It's fine."

She hesitated for a moment, then said, "How close are you to running out of money?"

His head shot up. "Why do you think I'm running out of money?"

"When you first came in, you had three drinks and your tips were good. Now, you're down to two and the tips have lightened up. You also haven't been eating, other than the crappy donuts at Ralph's motel where you're staying."

"You know where I'm staying?"

"It's not that big an island. Everyone knows everything that's going on here."

"It's a strange place. A little too run down to be a good tourist stop, but not much else going on."

"There's a lot going on, but you're right, we're not a tourist destination. This is a place for people who are running away from something. Like you."

"Why do you think I'm running away?"

"Well, anyone who stays here for any amount of time longer than about a week, is usually here because they're running away. Besides, you have that look."

"I'm not going to ask what look. I suppose now you want to know what I'm running from?"

"Nope. Your business. All you need to know is that we all understand."

He'd been listening to her well-modulated, intelligent voice and realized she was talking about herself too.

"How long has it been since you ran away?" he asked her.

She smiled, but the sadness from her eyes was there too. "About three years. I used to work with Tom. He retired a long time ago and moved here. I kept in contact with him and he told me to come here, so I did."

"When whatever you're running away from happened."

"Yes."

He nodded.

"Look," she said, "If you're running short on money, you can't keep staying at the motel. There are some other places to stay that would be cheaper. And maybe you should think about getting a job."

"Didn't know that I was staying here."

"Well, that's your choice of course. But this is a good place to run away to. No one will bother you. No one cares why you're here."

With that, she walked away from him and returned to the bar. He watched her go, then turned to the sandwich, picked it up and took a bite. Some sort of fish, with some seasonings. It was very good.

And the truth was, she had hit it on the head. All of it. He wasn't eating very much and he was running short of money. After his, uh, 'accident', running away to a tropical island had seemed like a good idea. He'd withdrawn as much money as he could from the bank, but after paying a last minute air fare and the hotel on the first, very expensive touristy island he'd gone to, he realized his money wasn't going to last if he went through it like that.

Someone had mentioned San Paolo island as a much cheaper place to hang out and they'd been right. The motel was a bit shabby, but basically clean and very cheap. And they provided coffee and cake in the morning. A good deal.

He'd walked the beach a bit, but even before his leg, he hadn't been much of a beach person and now it was really hard with the cane. So when he'd seen Tom's Bar just sitting there near the beach, he figured it was a sign – a good sign. He'd wandered in and ordered a scotch – which was ridiculously cheap – and had gone back every day.

He'd seen the attractive bartender, but other than ordering his drink and saying thank you, he hadn't conversed. He was surprised when she'd approached him with the sandwich and had hit everything on the head.

He knew there was a limited amount of money and it wouldn't last too much longer if he continued at the motel. But he hadn't known where else he could live. Maybe he should ask her what she was referring to. And if she knew where he could get some work to tide him over.

But what sort of work could he do? Not medicine, not here, not now, maybe not ever again. He really didn't have the training for anything else. He'd noticed a battered old piano in the corner of the bar. Maybe…

Julia wasn't surprised when he approached the bar. A shame about the limp. He was really tall and very sexy. Not that she was interested in that anymore, but it was nice to look.

"So," he began. "You said something about getting a job. What did you have in mind?"

"There's lots of things. You could take a day or so here bartending and give me some time off, for one."

"Don't know much about bartending,"

"Neither did I when I got here. Luckily the usuals don't order anything fancy. The tourists try some tropical drinks, but that's only a few and most of the tourists don't wander in here."

He nodded, then inclined his head towards the piano. "Anyone play that?"

"Not that I've ever heard. Tom inherited it when he bought the place. One of the locals used to play occasionally, but he got too old and doesn't get out much."

"If I tried that out, what do you think? Would I get paid?"

She shrugged. "If Tom thinks you're any good and would bring some people in, he might give you a few dollars and you might get some tips. Do that a couple of nights, and tend the bar another day or two and you'll make a little money."

"And what about a place to live that's cheaper than the motel?"

"Tom owns a few beach huts that he rents out. I live in one. There are some empty ones. He might give you a good price for renting it. Especially if I ask him."

He stared at her. "Why would you? You don't even know me."

"We're all strangers on San P, until we're not."

"That's not an answer."

"I know. By the way, I'm Julia."

He stared at her without speaking.

She sighed. "The correct response is, 'Hi, Julia, nice to meet you, I'm—" she stopped and looked hard at him.

"Greg." He said finally.

"Nice to meet you, Greg."

"So what should I…?"

"Go on back to the motel. I'll talk to Tom when he gets back and come and let you know."

He nodded and turned to leave, then turned back and said, "Thanks."

She had a feeling it took a lot for him to say that and she smiled at him as he left.

**Thanks for reading! More to come in a few days.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the response to this story. Hope everyone continues to enjoy it. I also hope your reading the stories now running by some of my friends: Winter Revels by ****Brighid45, Remember When by Pyewacket75 and The Meaning of My Life by hilandmum, all wonderful OC stories.**

**Chapter 2**

An hour later, Tom wandered back in the bar and she put a drink in front of him.

"Why are you buttering me up?" he asked her.

"Need a favor."

"You always need a favor."

"And you always oblige."

"Can I help that I have a soft spot for you?"

She smiled at the older man, who had been a mentor and substitute father to her during the years they'd worked together. After he'd left, the connection hadn't ended, it was just further away. When she needed him, he was there for her. She knew he wouldn't refuse her.

"Greg needs a job and a place to live?"

"Who's Greg and why is it any of my concern who he is or what he needs?"

"He's the bum, as you called him. And he's a runaway too. He needs a place to be for awhile."

He looked at her and considered. "You like him?"

She shrugged, "I barely know him. He just needs some help."

"Hummph. Bring him in tonight to talk to me and we'll see."

Later that evening, House walked into the bar. Julia had brought him over, but told him to go in by himself and talk to Tom. He saw the older man behind the bar, watching the old television set that barely got any channels.

House went up and sat at the bar.

"Hi." He said.

Tom glanced at him, then back at the TV. "Julia said you're running away from something."

House started to talk, but Tom interrupted him. "I don't give a shit what it is, except if you killed someone. Are you here because you killed someone?"

"Nope. I'm not here because I killed someone."

"Rape?"

"Nope."

Tom nodded. "Okay. All the other crap, who gives a damn?" he sighed. "Julia is a good lady. She wants to help everyone. And she's had too damn much pain in her life that she didn't deserve. If you do anything to mess with her, you'll be sorry. And don't think because I'm old, I can't take care of it, cause I can."

House nodded. He had no doubts that the tough old man could cause him a good deal of pain. "I won't hurt her."

"She's lonely. Needs a friend. And one who's closer to her age than an old fossil like me."

House just looked at him.

"Okay, you can tend bar a couple of days or whenever Julia doesn't want to. But don't let her give you all of her days. She makes some tips here."

"How about the piano? Can I play?"

"You tell me, can you play?"

House just smiled and limped over to the piano. He sat down and tried out a few keys. It was out of tune, but not as bad as he'd anticipated. He tried a few scales, then went into a simple jazz tune, enjoying the feel of the keys under his fingers again. He missed his piano. After the first tune, he played a more upbeat song, then ended with some Sinatra.

When he stopped, the few people in the bar clapped lightly. He limped back to the bar.

"Okay," Tom said, "You can play any night you're inclined. I'm putting a sign out saying 'Live Music.' Folks like that."

"Okay."

"Julia will take you to one of the beach cabins you can stay in. She's probably outside waiting for you, so go ahead and let me get back to this game."

House realized they hadn't discussed money, but he figured what the hell. Just getting a place to stay that was cheaper than the motel was an advantage. He'd figure out the rest.

Julia was waiting outside, sitting at one of the two tables that had been placed optimistically outside the bar and that none of the patrons ever used. She looked up at him when he came out.

"I'm in." he told her.

"That's great."

"Right, like you didn't know I would be."

"Hey, you never know. Anyway, let's stop at the motel and get your stuff, then I'll take you to your cabin."

They'd met at the bar, but he saw that she was driving a vehicle that looked like a golf cart. He'd seen her riding around the island in it, as did Tom. It must belong to the older man, but he let her use it as well.

House was curious about their relationship, though it certainly didn't seem to be as lovers, more like father and daughter. Was he really her father? If he wasn't, why did he act like it? Having such a contentious relationship with his Dad, he wondered why anyone would choose another one.

But he decided he had plenty of time to find out her story.

All the time in the world right now.

**Reviews are like chocolate during PMS!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When House opened his eyes the next morning, sun was streaming in the window beside him. It took him a few moments to remember where he was. He looked around and remembered that he'd moved from the motel to one of Tom's beach huts. He'd have to remember to close the shade that was at the top of the window before he went to bed. He moved slowly to get up and do that now so that he could catch a little more sleep. As he got to the window, he looked out and saw there was another cabin only a few yards away from his. He'd seen it the night before, but assumed it was empty.

Now he realized that it wasn't when he saw Julia sitting on a chair outside of it with a mug in her hand, gazing out on the ocean.

He watched her for a while, waiting to see if she would do anything that would give him a clue to her, but she just sat there, doing nothing. He assumed she was thinking about something, but her face did not betray any emotion that would tell whether her thoughts were good, bad, deep or anything at all.

He took those moments to stare at her as well. She was dressed, as usual, in shorts that reached her knees and a loose t-shirt. Her feet were bare as she sat there. He assumed her tennis shoes were only used while she worked in the bar. She'd also left the hair band out of her hair. That was probably for work as well. Her short brown, bobbed hair, fell close to her face. Every now and then, she would flex her feet and toes while she sat there and took small sips from her mug.

He wondered if it held coffee. His initial thought of going back to sleep faded as he thought about having coffee with Julia. Also, sleeping in wasn't as much fun when there really wasn't any reason he had to get up.

As he sat there considering it, he heard her voice. "Would you like some coffee, Greg? Or do you want to just keep staring at me?"

He was surprised that she knew he was watching her. "Staring is nice, but coffee would be better."

"Come on over. And make sure you have some clothes on."

He realized he was naked, but how did she know? He went quickly to the bathroom, only taking time to pee and throw some water on his face, then pulled on jeans and a t-shirt. He picked up his cane and headed out of the little cabin, walking the few yards to her cabin.

In the time he'd been getting dressed, she'd pulled out another chair and put a mug on the little table that sat there between them.

"Do you take anything in your coffee? I drink it black, so I really don't have anything here."

"Black is fine."

She leaned her head back and continued to stare at the ocean. He sat down and picked up the mug, taking a cautious sip. Not bad. Not too strong, but flavorful.

"Good coffee." He told her.

"Thanks."

"Nice day."

"Um-hmmm."

"Do you—"

She turned to look at him. "Greg, please don't feel that you need to make small talk. In the morning, I like to just sit here and enjoy the ocean, if you don't mind."

Actually, that was what he preferred too, but in his experience, women always wanted to 'chat'. That Julia didn't, immediately raised her stock in his opinion. He sat back and sipped his coffee, watching the ocean as she was.

After about a half an hour, Julia rose from her chair. "I have work to do. I thought that we could split up the bartending with me doing the early shift and you doing later. We open at noon. I could stay until four, then you could take over until Tom comes in at seven. And then, if you wanted to play the piano, you could do it then so that you could get the evening crowd."

"Crowd being a very loose concept."

"True, but the most people that would enjoy the music would come in the evening and that's where you'll get the tips."

"How much is Tom paying me?"

"That's between Tom and you."

House looked at her. "How much is he paying you?"

"That's between Tom and me. I'll leave you the golf cart. It's Tom's, but he rarely uses it. I can use my bicycle."

He nodded and handed her his empty mug. She went inside the cabin and returned a few minutes later with her tennis shoes on. She pulled out a bicycle from the other side of the cabin and with a wave she took off.

House wasn't sure what to do with his day. Usually, he would sleep late, eat some cake at the motel, then wander to the bar to drink the afternoon away. It seemed weird to go there to drink when he had to go there to work. And he only went to drink because there was nothing else to do, not because he was in desperate need of alcohol. He sat there staring at the ocean for a while longer.

He hadn't really spent any time near an ocean, at least not in a long time. When he was young, there were times his father had been stationed at coastal bases. But back then, he hadn't appreciated it. The ocean was a place to play in when he was a child or meet girls near when he was a teenager. He never took the time to admire it.

The ocean was majestic. So much power, so much beauty. It could be calm, blue and beautiful or it could be dark and dangerous. The emotions the ocean held were amazing. It could heal or it could destroy.

Sort of like him.

He pondered his situation. For the moment, he could survive. Even if Tom only gave him a place to live and meals, he could survive. He wasn't completely out of money, and anyway, what did he need to buy?

He'd taken his entire stash of Vicodin with him when he left Princeton. Then, when he'd gotten to the first island, he'd found a doctor who, for a little extra incentive, had given him a prescription for more.

So he was well stocked with his meds, as long as he didn't go crazy.

But how long would he want to be here? It was already way out of his comfort zone. And he knew it wouldn't be long before he missed the medicine. Or more precisely, the puzzle.

Of course, trying to figure out Julia would help with that urge. But once he did – and he had no doubts that he would – what would he do then?

He wandered back to the cabin that was his home for the time being. He hadn't really looked around much the night before.

It was, in reality, a tourist cabin, with a small sitting room and a galley kitchen area in the front and a bedroom and bathroom in the back. Small, but adequate he supposed. He opened the fridge. Nothing in there, but it worked. Julia told him the night before that she would pick up some things for him.

He went back to the bedroom. A double bed, which was a smaller than he was used to and a little short for his long frame, but, again, adequate. The bathroom was old, but clean. Julia had also told him that one of her duties was to keep the cabins clean in case someone wanted to rent one.

No one ever did.

Which was good for him, since they were empty and he had a place to live at a – he hoped – really good price. They hadn't discussed money, but since Julia had pushed for this, he assumed it would be cheap. She seemed to have his best interests at heart.

Which was another thing perplexing about her. Why did she care about him and what happened to him? And if she found out what he'd done, what he was really like, would she still want to help him.

Probably not, as in his experience, people who got to know him, didn't care about him.

Except for Wilson.

Ah, that was a wound he didn't want to open right now. He remembered the shocked look on Cuddy's face when he climbed out of his car in her dining room, but even more he remembered the disappointed look on Wilson's as he held his injured wrist. He hoped it was not broken, but a wrist could be fixed.

A friendship was a lot harder to fix.

Burning bridges with Cuddy, even if it meant losing his job was something he could handle. That had been inevitable anyway.

But losing Wilson's friendship would be a lot harder to bear. And he had a feeling that he had done irreparable harm to it. You didn't treat your friend that way and expect them to remain so.

That was why he knew that even though Julia seemed to like him now, eventually, he would turn her against him in some way, despite what he'd promised Tom.

Some things were just not meant to be.

**Thanks for reading! And for those of you who commented, but turned off private messaging, thanks to you guys too. I wish I could tell you personally, but since I can't, this will have to do. Next chapter will probably be a Christmas present!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Julia rode her bicycle to Mrs. Lassiter's house. The old woman lived alone and needed some help. Julia arrived early in the day, helped her get up and dressed, served her breakfast and made sure she was comfortably settled in for the day near the window that looked out on the ocean. She'd spend the day in her chair, reading, knitting, watching some television or just looking at the beach and ocean.

Julia came back in the early evening, got dinner for the woman, then helped her get ready for bed and made sure she was settled in with a book and her TV remote, before leaving.

With House helping out at the bar, it freed up some extra time for Julia. Now she could help Mrs. Lassiter, get to the bar and work, then still do a few errands before returning to help the woman in the evening.

It wasn't that she wanted free time, she actually hated free time, too much time to think.

But there were some other people she'd been wanting to help and this would give her the freedom to do it.

When House arrived at the bar, it was only a few minutes past three.

Julia raised an eyebrow. 'You're early. I told you four."

"Figured you'd need some time to show me the ropes." Actually, he'd been bored to tears and decided to head over earlier than planned.

"There isn't that much to show you. Here's the bar, the beer is in this cooler, the bottles are on the shelf, glasses down here. If anyone wants something to eat, the food is there. Usually a pot of chili is in the crock pot, there's bread, meat and fish right there. But people don't eat much here, so that's not a problem."

"Not even the people who get a free sandwich with every three drinks?" He said with a smirk.

She smiled, then came out from behind the bar, handed him the apron.

"I'll hang around for a bit, see how you do and if you need anything."

He went behind the bar, but dropped the apron on a stool on the way. He saw that she had put a tall stool back there for him. He knew it hadn't been there before.

She waited and gave him some advice, but being a smart guy and the bar being almost empty, it didn't take long for him to catch on.

At the end of his shift at the bar, he went to the piano and began playing. There were a few more people in the bar at night, even some tourists. They seemed to enjoy the music and even gave him some tips.

It was strange to work like that, but the piano helped to relax and renew him, so it really didn't matter if anyone paid him for that.

At the end of the week, Tom handed him fifty dollars. House looked at the money, then said, "This is a week's pay?"

"If I'm not mistaken, you have a place to live and food as well."

It was true that Julia made him coffee each morning and he'd come home that first day to find the small refrigerator and the cabinet in the cabin stocked with food. He'd also found cooked food on the little stove that just had to be put in the microwave. There was also a sandwich made for the next day.

He'd supposed that Julia had done all that. She had access to all the cabins. He saw her entering them with cleaning supplies. She did his too while he was out. He'd come home to a clean bathroom and his bed made.

So in the long run, he realized that it would cost a hell of a lot more to pay for a place to stay and food. And he hadn't worked very hard at the bar, not to mention the tips he'd received.

"Right." He told Tom, as he pocketed the money. "Thanks."

Over the next week or so, House got used to the routine. He would wake up early enough to share coffee with Julia. No talking, just contemplating the ocean. Then she would go off to her many chores and he would go back to his cabin, eat something and take a nap before his shift. He'd eat the lunch she'd left for him, then head over to the bar. Some nights he played the piano, some nights he just went home.

Tom didn't really care when he played, as long as he did it on Saturday when more people went out. Word of mouth spread about the new piano player and more people wandered in to the bar for a drink.

The routine was fine, certainly not taxing, and even if it was a little boring, still, it was better than the alternative. He had a feeling he'd be worse than bored in jail.

The only thing was that he still hadn't figured Julia out. He was afraid that the slow pace on the island had affected his deduction skills.

A few days after he began working for Tom, they were having their coffee, when he suddenly looked at her and said, "So, I was wondering why you gave me the cabin right next to yours."

"Not a mystery. I didn't want either of us to have to walk very far if you needed anything."

"Or you didn't want us walking far if we wanted to have sex."

Without looking at him, she said, "No, that wouldn't be the reason, since I have no intention of having sex with you."

"Already doing someone else?"

"No, I'm just not interested."

"Everyone's interested in sex."

"Not me."

"Are you a nun?"

She chuckled. "No, definitely not."

"Ah, so you're a hooker and you've given up the life. That's why you…"

"No, I'm not a hooker. Look, Greg, I appreciate the offer, but I am really not interested. That part of my life is over."

"But how could you…"

"You're an attractive man and there are other women on this island that I'm sure would be happy to accommodate you."

"You find me attractive."

"No, I said you're an attractive man. It's not the same thing."

"It kinda is."

She got up. "Sorry, the answer's no."

She walked away from him.

He knew he had to crack her shell, find out her secret and, as a bonus, get into her bed. He sat back with smug determination.

He soon came to know some of the locals. There were the men and women who worked at the cannery who came to the bar around five each evening when their shifts were done. They'd have a few beers, then head to their homes.

There were one or two old guys who spent the afternoon in the bar, playing checkers or cards while they sipped their whiskeys. They always greeted him with a hale hello and gave him a decent tip when they got their drinks.

On Friday or Saturday nights, some couples came in for a few drinks and once the word got around that there was a new piano player at the bar, more did and they'd sit with drinks, requesting songs and sometimes even dancing.

Tom seemed to enjoy seeing that. He didn't seem to care about how much money he made, just about how much fun the people were having.

The occasional tourists came in at night, but they usually didn't stay long at Tom's when they realized it wasn't a flashy, tourist type bar. Not that there was anything really flashy about San Paolo.

He took some time to explore the island, driving around a bit in the golf cart. Most people used them, as the island was small and the roads weren't great. There were a few small cars, and one gas station, but they weren't out that often.

The business section of the island was a small strip of buildings which were loosely gathered together. Tom's was at the end of the group, closest to the ocean. The other buildings consisted of a small grocery store, which also supplied hardware; a clothing store, selling new and used items; and drug store which provided first aid as well, since there was no doctor on the island. The only nice restaurant was also part of this group. There were a few empty buildings as well.

Not far from this strip were the three main motels, one of which being the one House had been staying at. Near them were a few scattered stores that were rarely open.

About a quarter mile away from this "metropolis" were the cabins where Julia and House lived, along with about a half dozen others that were empty. The best thing about them is that they were near the ocean and the view was spectacular.

As Julia had said, he soon found out that most of the people living here were running away from something. Some had simple stories of lost loves that they shared freely, especially when the alcohol was flowing. Others, like Julia, were more secretive. For the most part he didn't care why they were there.

But he wanted to figure Julia out. She seemed like a traditional suburban do-gooder. Why would someone like that need to run away to a tropical island?

And what did she think about each morning as she stared silently at the ocean? He enjoyed that quiet time with her, but it perplexed him. What kind of woman didn't want to talk?

He wanted to find out her secret, but on the other hand, he didn't really want to share his with her. He had a feeling she wouldn't like it at all and he was enjoying her.

So he'd have to bide his time for awhile and in the meantime, enjoy the sun and surf.

**Happy holidays to all my lovely readers! I did promise you a chapter for Christmas and actually intended to post yesterday, but time got away from me. Anyway, here it is. Please enjoy and I hope everyone is having a wonderful day!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

But House found cracking Julia's shell was harder than he thought. Over the next few weeks, they got into a comfortable routine, but he got no closer to his goal.

He was beginning to believe it was not going to happen, when there was finally a dent in her armor.

When he played the piano at night, sometimes Julia sat for a few minutes or a half an hour and listened to him. She'd sip a soda, then give him a wave and go home. She was always up much earlier than he was, so he knew she liked to go to bed early.

But one evening, he saw her sitting there and even though the drink still looked like a soda, she stayed there much later than normal. And when an hour had gone by and she was still sitting there, he knew something was up.

He watched as Tom went and sat beside her. He talked to her, but she just shook her head and after a while, he reluctantly rose and went back to the bar.

When he took his break, he went to the bar to get a drink and, inclining his head towards Julia, asked Tom, "What's up with her?"

Tom sighed. "I can't tell you. But I will say this: she could really use a friend tonight."

House walked to the table and sat down. "Hi."

"I'd rather be alone, Greg."

"Too bad. You're the only person worth sitting with in this bar, so deal with it."

She didn't look at him, just kept her eyes on her drink. But he could sense even more sadness in her than normal.

"You know, I'm a cool person to talk to. If there were, say, something bothering you."

"There's nothing you can do for me."

"You won't know that until you try me."

She just shook her head, but he saw her eyes and there were tears forming there. As soon as she realized it, she stood up.

"I need to get home."

She was out of the bar in seconds. House watched her, then went back to Tom.

"What the hell is up with her?" 

"It's a bad night for her. Why don't you knock off early and go help her?"

"She doesn't want my help."

"Yeah, she does, she just doesn't realize how much. More than that, she needs it. She needs someone to reach her."

"I'm not the most sensitive guy on the planet."

"I can tell that. But for some reason she likes you."

"She likes everyone." House grumbled.

"She does, but she likes you differently. I can tell the way she looks at you. And you like her, so…"

"So?"

"So, maybe tonight would be a good time to take a shot at it."

House stared at him, speechless for a moment. "Are you telling me that you want me to sleep with her?"

The older man shrugged. "She hasn't had anyone in a long time. Everyone needs something now and then. And since she seems to like you, why not?" 

House didn't know whether to be flattered that the man thought him worthy to be with Julia or insulted that he considered him not much more than a male hooker.

"Does she know that you're being a pimp for her?"

"No, but she knows I don't have a problem interfering if I think it's best for her. Go ahead, go to her. You want to and she needs you."

House didn't need to be told again. He picked up his cane and headed out.

When he got to the cabin, he didn't see her, so he assumed she'd gone to bed. He went into his cabin and got undressed and laid on his bed. He wasn't really sleepy, but he needed to think about things.

About twenty minutes later, he heard a sound outside and he sat up and looked out his window. She was sitting on the ground outside her cabin. She was wearing a short nightie and her legs were pulled up, with her arms around them. The sound he'd heard was her crying.

"Damn." He muttered, then pulled on his jeans and went outside.

"Hey." He said when he got to her.

She quickly wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were home."

"No problem. But you seem to have one."

"It's nothing."

"Julia, what's up? Someone do something to you?"

She let out a gruff laugh. "Lately, no. Really nothing anyone could do. My life was shot to shit a long time ago."

"Okay, I can appreciate that. But why is it bothering you now?"

She got up and walked towards the ocean. Even though he wasn't very steady on the sand, he followed her, afraid of what she might do.

"Julia, slow down, I can't walk fast."

She called over her shoulder. "I didn't ask you to follow me."

"Tough."

She turned around. "Greg, you really don't want to be around me tonight. I'm a mess."

"I'm kind of the king of messes."

She stopped and looked at him, then walked towards him. When she was right in front of him, he could see the tears falling.

"Greg, would you hold me?"

"If I have to." He quipped, then when he saw her face, he opened his arms and said, "Come here."

She went into his arms and put hers around him, while her head rested on his shoulder and the tears flowed.

He just held her, letting her cry it out. When she finally picked up her head, she said, "I'm sorry, I just…"

"It's okay."

She broke away and started walking back towards the cabin. Once again, he followed, wondering what she was thinking about.

When she got there, she said to him, "I really need someone to hold me tonight. Would you…?"

He nodded.

She went inside and he followed. She got into bed and he pulled off his jeans and got in beside her. He opened his arms again and she went into them, her face burrowed into his chest. He could feel the tears flowing freely.

They lay like that for a long time. Finally, the tears slowed and she lifted her head. "I've made you all wet."

"Oh, well, it's a hot night. I can handle it." He tightened his hold on her. "Any chance I'm gonna find out what caused the water works?"

She was silent for a long time and he thought she'd either fallen asleep or just didn't want to tell him. Then, very quietly, he heard her say, "My daughter died three years ago tonight."

"God. Sorry. Had she been sick?"

Silence again, then, "She killed herself."

"God." He said again. "That really sucks."

"I know. I'm pretty good most of the time, as you've seen, but on this date, it's just, well, hard."

"Sure."

"Thank you for being so understanding. And for letting me cry on you. If you want to go back to your cabin, that's fine."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No."

He snuggled in. "In that case, I'll stay."

She smiled and rested her head back on his chest. "Thank you." She whispered.

He just held her. Well, he thought, he was this far. He knew he could probably take it to the next step. Tom had practically given him permission to do it.

But he had a feeling that if he took advantage of her on the anniversary of her daughter's suicide, it might backfire on him.

On the other hand, if he was considerate now, she might be so grateful, he'd hit pay dirt later.

So he held her and whispered. "Go to sleep, Julia. I'll be here."


	6. Chapter 6

**My dear and loyal readers: I am so sorry for making you wait for the next chapter. And also for not responding to your wonderful reviews. I can only apologize and blame both the holidays and an extremely emotional and stressful past week. I promise to catch up on all reviews this week and be more prompt with my updates.**

Chapter 6

The next morning, when House woke up, the bed beside him was empty. He knew that Julia rose early, besides he could smell the coffee brewing, so he knew she was nearby. He lay there for a little longer, then rose slowly and grabbed the jeans that were on the floor beside him. He pulled them on quickly, then limped out of the bedroom and found Julia standing near the little kitchen area staring at the mugs on the counter.

"Morning." He said. She looked up and saw him, then looked away.

"Hi, um, the coffee is just about ready."

"Good." He hesitated, realizing that she felt awkward about the previous night. It was really up to him to make the next move. And what he did would set the tone for how they progressed.

He walked towards her slowly, and putting his finger under her chin, lifted her face. "How are you doing this morning?"

"I'm okay. I'm sorry if I was…"

He shook his head. "You were fine. I'm glad I was here."

"I am too."

He leaned down and kissed her softly. When he pulled back, he saw the amazement on her face. Her lips were parted and her eyes were wide.

In for a penny, in for a pound, he thought. He leaned down and kissed her again, this time deepening it and putting his arms around her back.

Julia closed her eyes. She didn't plan on kissing Greg, but now that it was happening, she decided to enjoy it. No, not just enjoy it, revel in it. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her body into his.

Finally, they ended the kiss, but when she would pull away, House kept his arms around her.

"Greg, I…"

"Shhh." He told her. "Don't analyze this. Did you like it?"

She nodded.

"Then that's all you need." He leaned down again and kissed her again.

She reluctantly pulled away from him. "I have to go…I have things…I, uh…"

He smiled. "Go. Do what you have to do. I'll see you later."

House was sure that he had her. He knew her secret and it would be easy to get her to sleep with him. And he was proud of himself, because he had been supportive the night before. And he really liked her. She was nice and caring, besides being really attractive. He went back to bed to sleep a little, confident in his ability to win the game.

That had been her first cup of coffee. She always had one when she first got up, then went off to help some people. When she returned, she had her second cup with House while she contemplated the ocean.

By the time she was back, House was sitting there with his coffee. She grabbed hers and sat beside him. They watched the ocean in silence for awhile, the way she liked. When he saw that she was ready to get up, he rose too and took her hand.

"Maybe we could spend some time together tonight."

She looked at him. "Greg, the kiss was nice, but I'm still not considering sleeping with you."

"Why not? You told me your secret, you can get past it now. Move on and all that."

She tilted her head. "Do you think that was it? My daughter's death?"

"Isn't it?"

"No, Greg. There's a lot more to me and what happened to me than just that."

"But…"

She smiled and kissed him lightly. "Let's take our time here. There is a lot to think about."

She got on her bike and rode away, leaving him more confused than ever.

Julia was also confused by the kiss, but not about her decision to take it slow. She hadn't expected him to kiss her like that – sweet and romantic. And she certainly hadn't expected it to move her that much. It had been a long time since she'd kissed anyone. Of course, a first kiss with someone was always exciting and it had been a REALLY long time since she'd shared a first kiss.

She knew he wanted to have sex with her, though she wondered why. She didn't think of herself as particularly appealing to the opposite sex. She certainly didn't do anything to make herself attractive. But he was a man after all. And she was close by. Still, he'd been kind the night before when he probably could have taken advantage of her vulnerability. And the kiss today had been nice, but he hadn't pressed it.

She knew that he thought he had her figured out after she'd told him about Megan. She swallowed the lump in her throat that always formed when the image of her beautiful daughter came to mind.

He had no idea how much she was keeping inside of her. She wondered if he'd still want to sleep with her if he knew. Probably, but either way, she wasn't ready to share it all. And taking it slow with him seemed the wisest thing to do.

He had noticed that she seemed to take care of everyone on the island. There were elderly people that she helped with daily tasks. There were young mothers that she helped with their children. There were so many others that she seemed to be the one they turned to. Of course, there was Tom, making sure he had time to go fishing and didn't work too hard.

He'd thought that once he began working at the bar, she would take some time for herself, but all it did was give her more time to help other people.

He was usually disgusted by so much self-sacrifice, but with Julia, he couldn't be. She was so honest and natural that he couldn't help but respond to her. Especially, since he was one of the people she was taking care of.

She made sure his cabin, including his bathroom, was cleaned. She washed his clothes and cooked for him, not to mention the coffee every morning.

After that night, she didn't cry again, nor did she speak of her daughter or her past. She went on with her daily tasks as she always had.

She also didn't invite him back to her bed. But he wasn't giving up that easily.

She hadn't resisted his kiss, so he pushed on with that. That evening when he returned from the bar, he saw her sitting on the beach. He sat beside her and they were silent for a while.

That was one of the nicest things about Julia. She didn't need to be talking all the time. They sat like that for some time, then he reached his arm out and put it around her, placing his hand on her shoulder. Then he pulled her closer to him.

Jesus, he was acting like a teenager trying to cop a feel.

But she didn't resist, so he kept his hand there. Eventually, she dropped her head onto his shoulder. He let it stay there for a while, before bending his head down and kissing her lightly on the lips. Again, she didn't resist, so he increased the pressure of his lips. She put her arm around him and they kissed more.

But just as he thought he was going to hit pay dirt, she broke away and stood up.

"I need to go to bed. Time to say good night, Greg."

He realized that she worded it that way to let him know that they would not be sleeping together. Still, he thought he'd give it one more try.

He held out his hand. "Can you help me up?"

"Sure." She took his hand and pulled. When he was on his feet, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. Once more, she didn't resist, but then she broke away.

"I'll see you in the morning. Good night." Then she walked back to her cabin.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks to everyone who has favorited this story or put it or me on alert! I really appreciate it. And look, I answered everyone's review this time! I'm getting better, LOL!**

Chapter 7

Julia wondered about her relationship with Greg. She was more and more attracted to him every day. She knew he wanted to sleep with her. Truth be told, she wanted it too. His kisses were amazing and he found – or made – opportunities to kiss her all the time.

But she wasn't sure if she was ready for a sexual relationship just yet.

To take her mind off of that uncomfortable decision, she worked harder for the people on the island that she helped.

Julia was increasingly worried about Mrs. Lassiter. The old woman seemed to be getting weaker and weaker, but she didn't know what to do about her. There was a nurse practitioner on San Paolo, but no doctor and the woman refused to go to the doctor on the larger island.

That was one other item of stress.

Then, one evening, she and House were sitting outside her cabin, watching the moon over the ocean, chatting quietly about unimportant things, when he said something that caught her attention.

"One time, at the hospital, there was this guy—"

"Hospital? Why were you in the hospital?"

"I worked there. I'm a doctor. Or, I was."

"You are? Oh my God, you could help Mrs. Lassiter."

"What's wrong with her?"

"I'm not sure, but she's been getting weaker and weaker."

"How old is she?"

"Ninety-six."

He looked at her. "Weak sort of goes with ninety-six."

"I know, but lately it's been worse. "

"Julia, I'm not licensed to practice medicine here."

"But you could just talk to her. Find out what's going on. Wait, you are a medical doctor, right? And you're not a psychiatrist or something, are you?"

"No psychiatrist. I'm a real doctor. Specialties in infectious diseases and nephrology. Kidneys." He added when he saw her start to ask.

"Okay, good, then you could talk to her. Maybe convince her to go the doctor on one of the bigger islands."

"Julia, I…"

"Please?" she asked plaintively. He couldn't deny her. And he had a feeling that if he said no, he'd never be back in her bed, let alone in anywhere else.

"Okay."

The next day, he reluctantly accompanied Julia to Mrs. Lassiter's house. Julia entered without knocking, calling out, "Hi, Mrs. Lassiter, it's me."

She walked to the back of the one story house, into a bedroom, where an old woman was sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Hello, Julia." She said in a shaky voice. "How are you, dear?"

"Mrs. Lassiter, you shouldn't try to get up until I can help you."

"It's fine, dear." The woman looked at House standing beside Julia. "Who is this young man?"

House smiled, realizing that at the apparent age of this woman, he would be considered young.

"This is my friend, Greg. I told you about him."

"Oh, yes, I remember." She smiled at him, though he could see it was an effort. She was very pale and her skin had a sickly pallor.

"Mrs. Lassiter, Greg is a doctor. I thought maybe you could talk to him."

"Dear, there really isn't anything a doctor can do for me."

"It wouldn't hurt to talk to him."

House saw the apprehension in the old woman and the look in her eyes told him she was uncomfortable talking in front of Julia.

"Julia," he said, "Why don't you go make everyone some tea?'

She stared at him, knowing he didn't drink tea, but he gave her a look and she realized what he was doing.

"Oh, yes, what a good idea. I'll go make some tea. You stay here and chat with Mrs. Lassiter."

When she left the room, Mrs. Lassiter sighed. "She's such a sweet girl. She's been so kind to me. But she just doesn't understand."

House nodded. "How long have you known?"

Her eyes were wary, but then, in a resigned voice, she said, "For some time now. You know what's wrong?"

"I have a pretty good guess. You probably could have done something about it a while ago."

"I know. But what would be the point? Doctor, I'm ninety-six years old. My husband and I came here when I was seventy. We bought this house and lived happily here for the next twenty years. Six years ago he died."

Sadness passed over her face. "There hasn't been a moment since then that I haven't missed him. We never had any children. We were each other's whole life.

"I carried on as best I could, but I'm old, I'm tired and I miss Ronald. What would be the point of fighting the inevitable?"

House considered her words for a moment, then said, "As a doctor, I value life. I usually did anything I could to prolong it. But I also respect a person's right to decide when it should be over. And, at this point, it's too late anyway. There are, however, thing you can do to make it easier."

She nodded. "I know. I'm prepared. But Julia is not. She thinks she needs to save me."

"She wants to save everyone." He told her. "She thinks if she does, it will make up for her daughter."

"Not just her daughter, but yes, you're right. Please, can you do me a favor? When the end comes, can you help her?"

"I'm not really the supportive type."

"I can tell." She said with a smile. "But she just needs someone to hold her and tell her it's not her fault."

"How would it be her fault?"

"It wouldn't. But she'll still think it is."

He nodded. "Okay."

Julia called out from the other room. "Tea is ready. Can you get the door, Greg?"

He went and opened it and Julia came in with a tray. She served tea to everyone and House pretended to sip his as they chatted. When they were finished, she helped get Mrs. Lassiter up and settled in her chair with the TV on and a book beside her as well. Then she brought the tea things to the kitchen, washed up and made some soup for the woman.

During this time, House sat and watched TV with Mrs. Lassiter.

Finally, they left and as they were heading back to the bar, Julia said, "Well?"

He was silent for a few moments, then said, "Julia, she's old and frail. There isn't much we can do for her."

"But there has to be something. If we…"

He shook his head. "No. There's nothing. Everyone has their time. And you have to let them go."

He saw the grief in her eyes and added, "Sometimes it happens before their time. Like your daughter. But sometime it happens as it should. She's ninety-six. She's lived a long and good life, the last quarter of it on a tropical island. She misses her husband. She's ready to go."

A tear started to slide down Julia's cheek.

"Aw, gee." He said. "Come on, no crying."

She wiped her eye quickly. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Look, how about if I work your shift and you go goof off?"

"Goof off?"

"Yeah, go do something you don't normally do: nothing. Don't help any old ladies or young mothers or anything. Just go lie on the beach or something. Just do nothing for a few hours."

"But I have to…"

"You don't have to do anything. Go relax." He kissed her on the mouth, then walked into the bar.

**A/N: Yes, I was being deliberately vague about Mrs. Lassiter's condition. Anyone who knows me or has read me before knows that my eyes glaze over when I try to think about the medical stuff (why is my favorite show a medical drama?). Anyway, it doesn't really matter what is wrong with Mrs. L, just that her time is short, okay? If someone wants to come up with an efficient way to kill off an old lady, go for it!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in responding to your wonderful reviews and in posting. No excuses. Hopefully this chapter will make up for it!**

Chapter 8

Julia didn't know what to do with herself. She never took time to do 'nothing'. The only time that was hers, was the few minutes she sat by the ocean in the morning with her coffee and in the evening before she went to bed.

During the day, she was always running around the island, helping people or working in the bar so that Tom could take it easy. Taking time for herself was not a part of her day.

She went to the beach and sat by the ocean for a bit, but she liked it in the early morning or at night better than midday. She walked along the beach, but that wasn't fun either.

She thought she could go back to her cabin and take a nap, but she wasn't tired. She wandered around for as long as she could, then she ended up back in the bar.

House was sitting on his stool, behind the bar when she sat down.

"I told you to go goof off."

"I am goofing off. I'm a customer. I want a drink."

He smiled. "What would you like?"

"I don't know. I haven't had a drink in years."

"Seriously?"

She nodded. "Hmmm, what should it be? Something tropical and fun. I know! A pina colada!"

"Oh, god, could you pick anything girlier?"

"Well, I'm a girl."

He rolled his eyes, but turned around and found the pina colada mix that Tom kept for the tourists. He didn't get a lot of tourists in his bar, so it wasn't often used. Still, it was there. House put the mix, some pineapple juice and rum into a blender and mixed it up for her, then poured it into a tall glass. He added a straw and a cherry on a toothpick and put it in front of her.

She smiled, lifted the glass and said, "Cheers." Then she took a sip. "Mmm, very nice."

She ended up spending the afternoon sitting there with several pina coladas. House made sure she had something to eat as well. If she hadn't been drinking for years, she would not only get very drunk, she'd also probably get really sick. And then she'd be sure that she was being punished for slacking off from helping everyone.

So he kept the food coming and every other drink had no rum. He also made sure she drank a bottle of water in between the drinks. The best way to avoid a hangover was to keep hydrated with water in between the drinks,

He wasn't doing this out of the kindness of his heart. He knew that if she was relaxed and feeling good, there was a chance he would get lucky. But if she was sick, that wouldn't happen. And if she was drunk, well, he didn't want her that way. She'd just resent him in the morning if they did anything that way.

When Tom returned, House thought about taking Julia home immediately, but then he had a better idea. It wasn't one of the nights that he usually played piano, but Tom didn't care if he added others. He sat down at the piano and began playing softly.

Julia smiled, then moved to sit at the table right next to him. After doing a few light jazz songs, he began to play and sing:

Some day when I'm awfully low and the world is cold

I will feel a glow just thinking of you

And the way you look tonight.

He looked at her as he sang and saw she was smiling. She also had a bottle of water in front of her.

Good, he thought, she wasn't drunk.

He finished the song, played one or two more, then rose to the smatters of applause from the bar. He went to Julia and said, "Come on, let's get out of here."

She nodded and they headed back to their cabins.

But when they got there, she walked to the beach instead of the cabin. He hobbled after her, even though walking on the sand wasn't easy for him. She sat down on the beach and he dropped down beside him.

"I love the ocean at night. During the day, it's gorgeous, but at night, there is so much passion and mystery."

He nodded, but his eyes were on her, not the ocean.

She turned to him. "Thank you for giving me this day."

He shrugged. "I didn't give you anything. I just told you it was okay to take it."

"Same thing really. But that doesn't mean I can goof off again. Tomorrow, it's back to my work."

"It's not your work. No one is paying you to help all these people. No one is even asking you to. You just decided that they need you."

She swallowed before speaking. "It's important to be needed. I was needed for a long time, then suddenly, I wasn't."

"When your daughter died. Yeah, I get that, but—"

"Not just that. There's a lot more to me than just a grieving mother."

"What else? Tell me."

She shook her head. "Not now. We're not ready to reveal our secrets at this moment. Just understand that what I do helps to keep me sane. You do understand the need for sanity?"

"Personally I've always found it a strange concept, but I know some people need it."

She smiled at him and rose, then held a hand out to help him up. On some level he knew he should be embarrassed or disgusted that a woman had to help him stand up. But with Julia, there was none of that. She didn't pity him, she just accepted him.

They walked back to her cabin and she said, "I really need to go to bed."

"Okay." He said, turning towards his own cabin. But she reached out and touched his arm.

"Come with me?"

He looked at her face, not sure what she was offering, but deciding it was better to go with it anyway. "Okay."

She reached for his hand and he followed her into the cabin and into her bedroom. She went into the bathroom, while he sat on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes and socks, then pulled off his jeans. He sat there in his t-shirt and his boxers with the sheet covering his leg when he heard her come out of the bathroom.

She walked around to where he was sitting and when she came into view, he saw that she was stark naked. He was speechless, but she wasn't expecting him to talk. She leaned down and kissed him, then knelt in front of him and pulled his t-shirt up and over his head. She reached for his boxers, but he stopped her.

"Are you sure?" he asked her.

"Yes." She said simply. He nodded, then pulled the boxers off himself, still keeping his leg covered. She could tell he was self-conscious about it, so she just pulled the sheet aside and lightly caressed both of his thighs while she kissed him fully on the mouth.

"It's nothing I care about, Greg." She whispered. "Don't make a big deal about it. There are more important things to deal with tonight."

He put his arms around her and pulled her close to him, kissing her back with relish.

Then he stopped again. "I don't have any protection with me."

"Doesn't matter. I had my tubes tied after Megan was born and I haven't been with anyone for a long time. I'm clean."

"I'm clean too."

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I just want you."

Moments later, they were lying on the bed. He tried to take it easy, since it had been a long time for her, but he was so full of desire that it was hard to hold back. She didn't seem to mind, as she built as quickly as he did and they released together.

Afterwards, they lay there with her head against his shoulder and his arm around her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her.

"Good." She said. "That was nice. It's been even longer than my last drink."

"Seriously? Why?"

"My husband left after Megan died. There hasn't been anyone since then."

"Wait, your husband left you after your daughter killed herself?"

"Yes."

"What a jerk."

She chuckled. "He wasn't, not really. It was just too much for him."

"For you too, I'd guess."

"True, but you do what you have to do."

He nodded. "So was this just a one time thing, based on the pina coladas or can we…?"

"We can. It's not a one night thing. This was fun. No reason why we can't continue. However, I have to tell you, I am still married. We've never divorced. Does that bother you?"

"Why in the world should it bother me if it doesn't bother you?"

"Well, it doesn't bother me at all. Good night, Greg." She said as she snuggled in and closed her eyes.

"Good night, Julia."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

House found that Julia was as good as her word. From then on, they usually spent the nights together either making love or just holding each other. House kept his own cabin, finding that it was better to keep his stuff, little that it was, there and out of Julia's way.

Julia was of two minds on the whole situation. On the one hand was some guilt: why was she enjoying herself? On the other hand, she was enjoying herself. And really, she couldn't find any reason not to.

Greg was a good lover and also a considerate one. Granted, she didn't have a lot to compare him to, but still, why not enjoy her time with an attractive man? She didn't know if he would stay on the island indefinitely, so she might as well enjoy him while she could.

The people of San Paolo had already been nice to him, but once they found that he was with Julia, they were especially nice. She was well-loved there since she found time to help everyone there.

Some of that bothered him. Why did she feel the need to always be helping everyone? Of course, he asked her, but her answer was cryptic.

"Why not? I'm living on a tropical island, I don't really need much money and there are people who need help. What else would I be doing?"

"Relaxing. Building your own life."

"No life to build, Greg. I left all of that behind. This is my world now."

Of course that answer only made him more curious. Why did she have no life? Just because her daughter died and her jerk husband walked out?

The more he thought about it, the more curious he was. Then something she'd said clicked with him and he confronted her.

"The first time we had sex, when I said I didn't have a condom, you said it didn't matter." He said.

"Right, it didn't. Still doesn't. I had my tubes tied, I told you."

"But that didn't mean you couldn't get sick from me. You had no way of knowing my past history."

"You're a doctor. I assumed you were safe."

"You didn't say, 'I trust you.' You said, 'it doesn't matter'. That means you didn't care if I was clean or not."

"What's the difference?"

"You didn't care because you don't care if something happens to you."

"That's ridiculous."

"No, it's not. You said you had no life to build. You don't think there's any value in your life. That's why you give all your time to other people. You think your life is unimportant so you have to help everyone else."

She stared at him and he could see that she wanted to disagree with him, but really couldn't.

"Julia, why do you think your life is useless? It's more than just your daughter's death and your husband leaving, isn't it?"

"You're a doctor, but you're living on an island and tending bar and playing the piano. Why aren't you doing what you should be? You have the capacity to help people and you're not."

"We're not talking about me."

"We are now. This island really needs a doctor. You could practice medicine here."

"That could be a problem."

"You said you're a doctor."

"I am. But I don't have a medical license here."

"Couldn't you get licensed here?"

"They would have to contact my previous employer."

"And that's a problem?"

"That's a big problem. My previous employer isn't too happy with me at the moment."

"Why? What did you do?"

He just looked at her, and she quickly said, "I'm sorry, I promised I wouldn't ask."

He looked away, staring at the ocean for awhile. "I was involved with my boss for a while."

"Your boss?"

"We actually knew each other in college, then years later she hired me. We kind of skirted around a relationship for a long time, and last year we went for it."

He saw the look on Julia's face. "What?"

"It's never a good idea for an employer and employee to get involved."

"Tell me about it. Anyway, it was doomed to fail and of course it did. And there were some unresolved feelings on both sides. Long story short, I drove my car into her dining room."

Julia's mouth dropped open and she stared at him.

"Say something." He told her.

"I – I don't know what to say. Was anyone hurt?"

"No. I made sure no one was in the room. Her daughter was at her mother's house."

"Her daughter? How old?"

"Three."

"Oh my God! You could have hurt that child."

"I told you, she wasn't there."

"Did you know that for sure? Did you check first? What if she didn't go to her mother's that day? What if she was at home? What if she had run into the room just as you were doing your little stunt?"

"Julia, you're projecting because of your daughter."

"No, I'm telling you how one reckless, thoughtless act can destroy a lot of lives. This is something I know."

She got up and walked away. He followed and found her down by the ocean, sitting on the sand. When he got close, he saw there were tears on her face.

"No one was hurt, Julia. I swear, no one was hurt."

"It's not about you, Greg. It just, oh God."

He sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulder.

"Do you want to tell me?"

She swallowed hard, then closed her eyes and leaned her head back.

"My daughter, Megan, was a good kid. I know parents say that all the time, but she was. Good student, never got in trouble, nothing bad. We had a good relationship too. We did things together, talked, all of that. But she made one stupid mistake that destroyed her life.

"She was with some friends, actually not kids that she usually went with, but one of her close friends was friends with these kids and Megan was invited to go with her friend to a party. It was an afternoon, a pool party, so I wasn't really concerned. I even let her take the car. She'd been driving for about six months.

"Anyway, the kids at the party started huffing. Megan barely knew what that was. They convinced her that it wasn't a big deal, that she would barely feel it. So she tried it. And she didn't like it. So she decided to leave.

"She didn't realize that she was impaired. She'd never done it before, so how could she know? Anyway, she was driving home and she lost control of the car on a busy street. The car crossed lanes and ended up on the sidewalk. She hit two teenaged girls that were walking there.

"One of them was killed instantly, the other was seriously injured."

House had been silent, but finally said, "Wow. That had to suck."

"Yeah, big time. The girl who was killed was really popular, the kind of girl that everyone loved. Our community wasn't that big. Everyone knew the dead girl and they also knew that Megan had killed her. They even erected one of those teddy bear memorials where she died. I had to drive by it everyday.

"All of our friends drifted away. They were either embarrassed to be with us or accusing – how could we raise a child who would do that?

"So that's why your daughter killed herself?"

"No, that happened almost a year later. In the meantime, my son David – he was in college then - couldn't deal with all of the pressure and the ostracism, so he pretty much disowned us. We re-mortgaged our already pretty well mortgaged house to pay all the legal fees for Megan. She was charged with DUI and involuntary manslaughter. She got probation, but it was still on her record. Then there were the lawsuits from both of the other families. Once the trials were over, Megan saw that once she was eighteen, she'd be responsible for the money they won unless she declared bankruptcy. Her college offers dried up, no scholarships and since we were in debt, no money from us and even the loans were chancy. And that was if a college would even accept her. My husband and I started fighting all the time and Megan felt that she destroyed our family and had no future. That when she did it.

"Almost no one attended the funeral. None of Megan's former friends, none of mine. A couple of people who worked with me or my husband were there. We really have no other family. Mostly, just me, my husband Ray, and David,"

She was silent for a minute, then sighed and continued. "Once the funeral was over, my husband took off. He packed up his clothes and his golf clubs and just left. I don't know where he went. He didn't even try to contact me. I was left with credit card bills, the mortgage, car loans, everything. So I sold anything that I could, let the bank foreclose on the house and just left.

"Tom said I could come down here any time, so I took him up on it and here I am."

House wasn't sure what to say after that. It really was a very sad story. Of course, he didn't do emotional scenes, so he tried to be "supportive" without being sappy.

"Sure is a lot of crap to fall on one set of shoulders. I don't blame you for running away."

"There was nothing left for me there. No husband, no children, no home, no friends. What was the point of it?"

He nodded. "Sure."

"And I was responsible for it."

His head shot up. "What? Why? What made you responsible?"

"I was the mother, it was my responsibility to keep the family together and I failed. I let Megan take the car to that party. I drove David and Ray away. I lost everything we had. I have to pay for that."

"Whoa, what the fuck are you saying? Your fault? Your daughter made a mistake, something everyone does. What were the odds that at the exact moment that her car went up on that sidewalk those girls were walking there? If she'd been a few moments earlier or later, she'd have had an accident, but no one would have died. It's just bad dumb luck. But it's not your fault."

She didn't look at him, but he knew that he hadn't convinced her.

"And you're spending all your time helping all these people as payment for what you think you did."

"Greg, there are consequences to everything. Someone has to pay for that girl's death."

"I think your daughter did that when she offed herself."

She shook her head. "Megan was depressed, confused, upset. She didn't really know what she was doing."

"That still doesn't mean you…"

"Don't you see? She was my baby and I didn't protect her! The little that I do here to help a few people will never pay for the way I failed her and the rest of my family."

**A/N: As an FYI - the accident that Julia described really happened. The girl who died was a classmate of my daughter's. As a mother, I grieved for her family. But as a writer, I wondered what the fallout was in the family of the girl responsible. For the record, I have no information whatsoever on that girl or her family. Everything besides the actual accident has been created from my imagination. But if it were a one time mistake that girl made, how devastated would she be? What would it do to her life and her family's? I've wondered that since it occurred, three years ago and this is the first time I've been able to include this in my story.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Julia wouldn't be convinced by any of House's arguments that she wasn't responsible for all of the bad things that had happened to her family. She refused to talk about it any longer.

House decided the best thing to do was bide his time for the moment. Besides, if she was upset about that it might impede his chances of getting sex.

And he was enjoying the sex. Why not? Julia was lovely and a very eager lover. She wasn't a conventional beauty. Living on San P gave her a constant tan and other than moisturizer, she wore no cosmetics. He skin was clear and golden. Her hair was not fashionably styled, but it was always washed and neatly combed. Usually she held it back with a headband, thought sometimes she put it in a short ponytail.

Her sense of style certainly hadn't come off a New York runway. She wore shorts that fell mid-thigh or to her knees and loose t-shirts or tank tops with sandals or tennis shoes. He'd seen her in jeans once, but that was the extent of her wardrobe, other than a kerchief and a hat.

And of course, there were the glasses. She told him she used to wear contact lenses, but they'd worn out and she hadn't bothered to replace them. She hadn't even had the glasses replaced since she'd been there.

In other circumstances, he would never have even looked at her. But the circumstances were not normal. He was on a tropical island, afraid to return home.

At first, it was a case of any port in a storm.

But as he'd gotten to know her, he began to appreciate her natural beauty. She didn't need all those other enhancements that most women used. And her personality made her head and shoulders above all the beauty queens he'd seen.

Despite the sadness in her eyes, she had a way with people, even him. She truly cared about everyone. Sometimes it annoyed him, but he understood that was part of her makeup. And making her smile was a challenge, but one he enjoyed and always tried to do.

However, one morning, that was not going to happen. He had just gotten up and was about to pour some coffee when Julia came running into the cabin.

"Greg, you have to come with me! There's something wrong with Mrs. Lassiter."

He had a feeling he knew what was 'wrong' with the old woman, but he asked anyway. "Why do you think something is wrong?"

"She's not moving."

He stared at her. "Julia…"

"Look, please just come and see if there's anything you can do. Please?"

He couldn't resist her pleading eyes, so he nodded and returned to the bedroom. Seconds later he had on his jeans and a t-shirt as well as his sneakers.

They got into the golf cart and Julia drove it as quickly as she could towards Mrs. Lassiter's house.

She ran ahead of him inside. When he got there, she was in the bedroom beside the old woman's bed. He didn't need to get any closer, he could tell from the first view. But he knew Julia wouldn't be satisfied unless he went through the motions.

He went to the bed, picked up the limp wrist from the bed and held it for a few moments.

"No pulse. Sorry, Julia, she's gone."

"Maybe you could do CPR or something."

He shook his head. "She's cold and I can tell by her coloring, she's been dead for a few hours at least."

He saw the tears pool in her eyes and he pulled her into his arms.

"You knew this was coming. She was old and sick. And she was ready to go."

"I know all of that. But I really liked her. I didn't want…" she broke off as the tears came down and her voice broke into sobs.

He held her for awhile, then he called the local constable and the undertaker to come and take care of the body. Julia refused to leave until they came.

"I can't leave her alone." She insisted.

"She's not here."

"I'm not leaving."

He sighed and just sat there with her until the others arrived and transported her to the undertaker's home. Then they got back into the golf cart and House drove them back to the cabin.

"Why don't you take it easy today?" he asked her.

"That's always your answer, isn't it? Just goof off and pretend nothing happened, and everything will be okay."

He stared at her. It wasn't like her to talk like that.

She knew it too. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't take off on you like that. I know you're just trying to be nice."

No one called him 'nice' as much as the people of San P and especially Julia, in his entire life.

"I'm not trying to be nice. I'm just trying to get you to not be so bummed out."

"I can't help it."

"Yeah, I know. If I'd had a patient whose heart bled as much as yours does, I'd have pronounced him dead a long time ago."

She smiled weakly, but it was a smile nonetheless.

Somehow she got through the rest of her day and the next one. Mrs. Lassiter's funeral was the following one. She was buried in the small cemetery near the church, in a plot beside her husband. Several island residents were there and most of them said a few words at the memorial, but Julia couldn't bring herself to speak of the woman she'd cared so much for.

After the funeral, Wayne Brockton, the only lawyer on the island stopped her.

"Julia, I'd like to talk to you about Mrs. Lassiter's will."

"What about it?" Julia asked him.

"Well, you're in it."

"I am? She left me something? How sweet. Probably one of her home made quilts. I always admired them."

Wayne looked at her oddly. "Can I come by Tom's later so that we can talk?"

The man didn't have an office. He'd been a powerful attorney in New York at one of the most prestigious law firms, but he'd burned out and had a bit of a breakdown. That's when he'd come to San P. He only practiced law as a service to the people on the island. He didn't keep an office, just carried around a laptop when necessary.

A few hours later when he walked into the bar, he had the laptop bag under his arm. He approached the bar where House, Julia and Tom were chatting.

"Can we go sit at a table, Julia?"

"Why? Just tell me what she left me and have a drink."

The man looked away, then back at her. "I'd rather do this at a table."

The expression on the man's face caught House's attention. "Come on, Julia, let's go sit at a table with him."

Julia shrugged. "If you insist."

They walked to a corner table and sat down. Wayne hesitated before speaking and Julia got impatient.

"Just tell me what she left me for goodness sake!"

"Everything."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Mrs. Lassiter's late husband had been an investment banker, back at a time when that meant a lot. After he retired, he held on to all of his investments and they are substantial. They built their house here and paid cash for it. They had more than enough money to live here very comfortably without even touching most of their principle investments.

"Neither of them had families and they had no children together. All they had was each other."

"And a lot of dough it seems." House put in.

"Yes, they did." Wayne agreed.

Julia was speechless, just staring at the two men.

"So, Julia, she left the house, all its contents, her savings and stocks to you. Everything."

"Everything?" Julia said in a whisper.

"Yes."

"I – I just don't understand. She's only known me a short time."

"You cared about her. And you care about this place and the people. She knew that you would do something to help them with the house and money."

"What? What am I expected to do?"

"You're not expected to do anything. You could take the money and move to a classier island if you wanted and do nothing with it. You can give it all to your favorite charity. She didn't specify, there are no caveats. She just felt that you would do something good with it, knowing the person you are."

Julia didn't know what to say to that.

Wayne rose. "I'll bring some papers by tomorrow for you to sign. There really isn't any hurry to do anything. The house is paid for and the investments will take care of themselves. The broker that handles them will be given your name and may require your signature from time to time. That's it for the moment."

He bid them both goodbye and left the bar. Julia was still in shock. House watched her for a bit before finally saying, "So I guess you're buying dinner tonight?"

She chuckled and relaxed a bit. But she knew she had a lot to think about.

**A/N: Hey, hope everyone's still reading. Haven't gotten a lot of responses, but I'm still writing.**


	11. Chapter 11

**I know that we're all feeling very emotional this week with the announcement of the show's cancellation. It's going to be hard to see it go. Personally, I've made so many friends - mostly other fan fic writers that you will find on this site: gorblimey, glenlivet, pyewacket, hilandmum, brighid45 among others. I'll be eternally grateful to the show for that alone. But I've also been able to flex my writing muscles because of the fascinating character of Gregory House.**

**Oh, well, onward...**

Chapter 11

Later that night, Julia was lying in bed, thinking about the day: Mrs. Lassiter's funeral and leaving everything to her. It was mind boggling and she thought about what she could do with that money.

She'd been thinking about all evening. She'd come back to the cabin early while House stayed at Tom's and played piano.

When House came back and climbed into bed with her, he wasn't surprised to find that she was still awake.

"If you can't sleep, why don't you try counting your money?" he told her.

"Ha, ha." She curled into him. "I've got lots of things swirling around in my head."

"Understandable."

"What do you think I should do with the money?"

"Nope, you are not getting me to tell you that. It can't end well no matter what I say."

"Well, what would you do?" she asked him.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

"I'm not a self-sacrificing do-gooder like you. I would get extremely drunk for several days. Then the orgies would follow and the extravagant spending, before I woke up, naked, weeks later somewhere in South America with no recollection of how I got there."

"No, you wouldn't!" she said with a laugh.

"You really don't know me, do you?"

"Maybe I don't. But I think you're more talk than action."

"Right now, I'm thinking, less talk and more action." He said as he moved his hands over her breasts. "I've never had sex with an heiress before."

"Oh, well then…" She put her arms around him and pulled him close to her.

Later that night, as House snored softly beside her, she thought about the money and the man beside her. If there was a way that they two could be connected and could help the island as well…

She'd have to consider that.

The next day, while House tended bar, Julia sat with Tom when he asked her what she intended to do with the money.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll go buy my own island and just live there and stare at the ocean all day."

"Yeah, right."

"What?"

"You could no more do that than I could fly through the air."

She smiled, knowing he was right. "Mrs. Lassiter wanted me to help the island and I think I'd like to do that, but I'm not sure how."

"You'll figure something out."

"Maybe." But she was looking at House while she said that.

"You think that you can make him stay with the money?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Probably not."

"But you want to?"

She stared at the table, then at House again before saying quietly, "I want to keep him."

"He's not a dog, Julia. You don't get to say if he stays or goes."

"I know."

The older man watched her for a bit. "You like him, don't you?"

She met his gaze. "Do you really think I'd be sleeping with him if I didn't?"

"No, you wouldn't. But he's not the type to stay here, you know that, right?"

She nodded. "I know. But I can enjoy him for as long as I have him, can't I?"

"Sure. But what's going to happen to you when he goes?"

"I'll survive. I've survived worse."

In the next week or so, Julia thought a lot about what to do with her inheritance. But while she was thinking, she went to the house and cleaned it, cleaning it out as she did. She gathered all of the old woman's clothes and donated them to a charity that provided for the poor. She cleared out all the food in the refrigerator and cupboards, disposing of anything that was out of date and giving the non-perishables to the same charity.

Mrs. Lassiter had a few nice pieces of jewelry that were very old-fashioned, but they charmed Julia, so she took those and the little velvet jewelry box with her. House told her to sell them, but she said no. She wanted something to remind her of her friend. There were a few trinkets around the house that she also took, but not much. Others she distributed to people who were also friends with the woman so that everyone could have a memento.

But while she did all of this, she kept thinking about what the island needed and what could be done with the house and the money.

When she got an idea, she started talking to House about it.

"The island really needs some sort of medical facility," she told him.

He was silent, not liking where she was going with that.

"I think the house is big enough to hold a small clinic, don't you?"

"Mmm." He said, non-committedly.

"The master bedroom could hold a few beds if people needed to stay there."

He just stared at her.

"There's enough money in the estate and through the investments to pay a salary for a doctor. Not a huge salary, but enough."

"What doctor is going to want to work for the pittance you want to pay him or her? A young doctor wants to get ahead, so they won't come here. And an older doctor is used to making a lot more money."

"There could be someone. I mean, it wouldn't be hard work, it's not like there are a lot of sick people. There could be someone who needs a change. Who needs to run away from something and wouldn't mind living in paradise while he does it."

He just stared at her for several minutes, then said quietly, "No."

"What? No what?"

"I know what you're trying to do, Julia, and it won't work. I am not the sort of doctor that works in a small clinic, swabbing people's crotch rot."

"Are you the sort of doctor who tends bar and plays piano?"

"For now I am."

"But for how long? I know you won't want to do that forever and you don't want to go back to New Jersey, so why not practice medicine somewhere else."

"I told you, I'm not licensed here and I won't be able to be without revealing where I am."

"Greg, do you really think they are going to extradite you for an extreme vandalism charge?"

"I don't know, but I'm not going to chance it."

"It really wouldn't matter. The government here isn't too picky. They'd be so happy to have any doctor here, they wouldn't look too closely."

"Oh, great! I really want to be a doctor who can't work anywhere else, so he works for the shady government that doesn't care."

"It wouldn't be like that." She protested.

"Julia, give it up."

"But…"

"No. That's enough." He walked away from her.

But she couldn't let it go. She gave it a few more days, then mentioned it to him again. Again, he shot her down, but she didn't give up. Whenever she got a chance, she slipped it in to their conversation. He began to dread talking to her, knowing that she was going to try to convince him to stay there and be the island doctor.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sorry it's taking me so long to update. Lots of things on my mind at present. But don't fear, I'm not abandoning this story.**

Chapter 12

In a hidden part of his brain, there was something that said to him, why not? Why not stay with Julia in paradise and practice medicine. It would be easy work and he'd be happy.

But the other, more rational part of his brain, knew that was not to be. He was not destined to be happy like that, nor did he deserve it.

However, Julia didn't realize that.

"I just don't understand why you would want to just waste your time when you could be doing something good that would actually help people."

"What makes you think I want to help people?"

"Well, you're a doctor."

"So you think that means that I want to help people?"

"Doesn't it?"

"Not in my case."

"But why would you—"

"Julia, you don't know me that well and you don't understand me, even though you think you do. But I know you. Your problem is that you're trying to save the world."

"No, I'm not."

"You are. And when you can't, you get depressed and try even harder."

"That's not true!"

"It is. But it doesn't work. No one can save the world. You can't even save the world around you. You couldn't save Mrs. Lassiter, you couldn't save your family, you can't save all the other people on this island, and you can't save me."

"Who said I want to save you?"

"You've been trying since the beginning. That's the only reason you talked to me. Maybe the reason you slept with me."

Her eyes flashed at him. "Go to hell."

"Been there. In fact, I'm a regular visitor."

"Then go on back and leave me alone. If I can't save you, then fine, don't be saved. Go on and be a miserable jerk that tries to kill people."

"I didn't…"

"You didn't know! You could have. And that is unforgivable."

He stared at her silently for a few moments. "You're right. I am a miserable jerk who can't be saved or be forgiven. Hell is where I belong, not paradise."

He turned and walked away from her, going into his cabin. She wiped the tear that insisted on running down her cheek and went back into her own cabin.

She couldn't sleep that night. She cried most of the night and wished she had Greg there to hold her, but it would be wrong to go to him now. In the morning, she'd apologize for what she'd said. He wouldn't, but she'd know what he was feeling by the look in his eyes. It would be okay.

In the morning, she rose at her normal time, made the coffee and then went off to do her daily duties. When she returned two hours later, she was surprised that House wasn't sitting in the chair drinking his coffee.

She went inside her cabin and saw that his cup was still sitting on the counter beside the coffee maker. Wasn't he up yet?

She crossed to his cabin and knocked on the door, but no one answered. She cautiously opened the door and stepped inside. It was eerily quiet. She glanced around the front room, then moved to the bedroom. The door was open and she saw the room was empty. He was already up and about? Very unusual. She started making the bed and as she did, she started to notice that none of his things were thrown around as they usually were. She went to the bathroom and saw that none of his toiletries were there.

She ran outside and to the back of the cabin. The golf cart wasn't there. She quickly jumped on her bicycle and rode to Tom's. The golf cart was parked there. She started to breathe again. He was inside, it was alright.

Inside, Tom was sitting at a table drinking some coffee.

"Where's Greg?" she asked a little breathlessly.

He stared at her for a few moments, then said, "Gone.'

"Gone? What do you mean gone? Where did he go?"

"Back to New Jersey. He took the nine a.m. ferry. Stopped to leave me the golf cart and say goodbye."

"But…but…he can't go back! They'll put him in jail!" Then as something else occurred to her, she said, "He said goodbye to you? He didn't say goodbye to me!"

"He said he didn't think you'd want him to talk to you. He told me to tell you goodbye."

"No." she whispered. "No." Then as it hit her that he was gone, she said, "Well, fine then. If he wants to go back there and go to jail, fine."

Tom watched her, taking note of the emotions that were passing over her face. "You're in love with him."

"What? You're crazy! Just because we had sex a few times, does not mean…" She trailed off as she saw Tom smiling at her. "So, what difference does it make? He's gone now, isn't he? And he won't be back."

And damn if one of those stupid tears didn't run down her face again.

"You could go to him."

"Where? To New Jersey? Why would I want to do that?"

"Because if he's in trouble, he could probably use a friend."

"If he'd wanted me there, he would have said goodbye to me himself. No, I'm staying right here, thank you very much."

It took her a few days of being miserable. Her sadness never really left her, but when House was there, she began to feel a little happier and a lot more hopeful. She didn't like the return to the hopeless feeling again.

She went to see Tom and said, "How hard would it be for me to go to Princeton?"

"Shouldn't be too hard. You still have your passport, right? Is it out of date?"

"No, it's still valid, though just."

"Then go. You've got the money now."

"Right. But if he turned himself in, he might be in jail already. How do I find out where he is?"

"Ask Wayne. He still has connections."

She asked Wayne and as Tom had said, he had connections in the justice department in New York and they were able to connect with the same department in New Jersey. He told her where House was being held and the name of the prosecutor in charge of the case.

She made a reservation on the next flight to the States and within two days, she was stepping off a plane in Newark, NJ, her feet touching U.S. soil for the first time in over three years.


	13. Chapter 13

**Who else was angry that House was pre-empted last night because of the race? I know I was! Anyway, only a few more chapters for part 1 of this story. I'm still working on part 2, but I was really hoping that last night's episode would help me with the canon for it. Can I grumble again about that? Anyway, enjoy.**

Chapter 13

Although her passport hadn't expired, her driver's license had. Running a golf cart around the island was a lot different than driving a car, so Julia took a taxi to the jail where House was being held.

She marched right up to the desk sergeant and said, "I'd like to see Dr. Gregory House, please."

"No visitors."

"Excuse me?"

"He doesn't want any visitors."

She took a deep breath. "Sir, I have come a very long way and I intend to see him. I really don't care what he wants, I must see him."

The office looked at her and the determination on her face, then shrugged and nodded. He picked up the phone beside him, punched in a number and said something to the person who answered,

When he hung up, he looked at Julia and said, "Go down that hall. An officer will meet you and take you to the prisoner."

"Thank you." She said, cringing at the words 'the prisoner.'

She followed his instructions and was met by an officer who led her into a room with a long table in the middle that cut it in half and had a wire mesh screen above it that separated visitors from prisoners. She sat at one of the chairs near the table and waited.

About twenty minutes later, the door on the other end of the room opened and House shuffled in wearing an orange jumpsuit and with his hands manacled together.

It broke her heart to see him like that, but what was worse was the anger on his face.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he said in an angry whisper, since he knew the cop was at the end of the room listening for trouble.

"You didn't say goodbye to me."

"Is that it? Okay, sorry, goodbye. Have a nice life. Now you can fly out of here."

"Greg, why did you leave like that and come back here to give yourself up?"

"You told me to."

"What? I did not!"

"You told me I was an attempted murderer and I should go to hell. So I did."

Tears started to pool in her eyes. "Oh, Greg, you know I didn't mean that! If you'd waited until morning, I would have apologized for what I said. I am so sorry."

He knew that was true and that she was sincere in her apology. He also knew that he should be apologizing to her as well, but that was beyond him.

Besides, what was the point?

"Okay, you've apologized. I accept it. Done. You need to leave now and not come back."

"I'm not leaving. I'm staying until your trial."

"No trial."

"What do you mean? Everyone is entitled to—"

"I pled guilty and made a deal with the D.A. There's a hearing on Monday, that's it."

She thought about that. "Okay, I guess I see your point. You did it, so show your remorse by pleading guilty and get it over with. Okay, that's good. What was the deal? Probation? Community service?"

"One year."

"One year of probation?"

"One year of prison."

She was shocked. "What? Why? For extreme vandalism? It's a misdemeanor at worst. I've seen rapists and murderers not get that long in jail."

"Aggravated assault, which is a felony."

"You pled to aggravated assault? Why would your lawyer let you do that?"

"He's a real moron."

"I'll say! Well, maybe we can fire him and tell the judge you were not informed correctly and—"

"Julia, I didn't hire a lawyer."

"They appointed one? Well, we can still…"

"I didn't have a lawyer."

She stared at him, then shook her head. "You've heard the saying, correct? About the man that represents himself has a fool for a client?"

"That'd be about right."

"Greg, this is ridiculous, you shouldn't be getting a year for what you did!'

"I deserve it."

"You do not! And for that matter, why aren't you out on bail?"

"Flight risk. The bail was too high."

"I'll take care of that. I'll have you out today."

"Julia, the bail was set at $100,000. You can't afford that."

She smiled. "Heiress, remember?"

"You want to use that money for the island."

"I do, but there is nothing that says I can't use some for myself as well."

He was silent, staring at her, his blue eyes boring into her for several minutes before he spoke. "Julia, you shouldn't do this. You need to go back to the island and forget you ever met me."

"I can't do that. You're sort of unforgettable."

"You're thinking you can save the world by saving me, but you can't. I agreed to the deal. I'm not going back on it now. I'm spending the next year in prison."

She swallowed hard to hide her emotion. "If that's what you want, then I'll support you in that. But there's no reason you can't be out on bail until Monday. We can at least have this weekend."

"What would be the point?"

"The point would be that I traveled all the way from San P to New Jersey and I should at least get to spend some time with you before you go to prison."

He looked at her face, so full of care and affection and knew that he couldn't refuse her this. He nodded. "Okay."

**Well, you all knew he had to come back and do his time, so no complaints! Reviews are gold to writers!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry I've been derelict in responding to your wonderful reviews. I was going to take the time to do that first, but figured you guys would rather have a new chapter.**

**And I want to thank my friend and fellow fan fic writer, gorblimey, for her legal advice for this story. Any legal errors are simply me using dramatic license.**

Chapter 14

Armed with the name of the prosecutor, Julia headed to the county courthouse to see him. But his secretary told her that he was in court, however, one of the assistant prosecutors was there. Julia was directed to her office.

The young woman listened sympathetically to Julia's story.

"So you see, he's going to keep his bargain and the deal he agreed to, but he just wants the weekend. Can we just do the bail for that long and he'll be back on Monday?" Julia asked.

The assistant prosecutor thought for a bit, then said, "Technically, we could do the bail, but it would be expensive, since he's considered a flight risk."

"I don't care…" Julia began, but she was interrupted.

"But here's what I think we should do: I can arrange for him to have a three day release to get his affairs in order before he goes to prison. He'll have to wear an ankle monitor, but it won't cost you anything and when he appears as scheduled on Monday, it will look good for him."

Julia nodded, excited. The prosecutor told her what they had to do, then brought her to the secretary to begin the paperwork.

Three hours later, signed and notarized papers in hand, Julia reappeared at the jail and handed them to the desk sergeant, then sat on the hard bench and waited. An hour and fifteen minutes later, House came walking out.

He looked at her incredulously. "How the hell did you manage this?"

"Never mind. Let's just get out of here."

They left the jail and hailed a taxi. House gave the driver his address and before long they were walking into his apartment.

Julia was taking a moment to look around his home, but House pulled her into his arms.

"We don't have much time and I'm not going to be getting any sex for the next year. At least, I hope I'm not. And if I do, it won't be the kind I want."

Her eyes started to tear at those words, but he shushed her. "No water works. We don't have time for that. I want you naked in my bed for the entire weekend, understand?"

She nodded and he led her into his bedroom where they both quickly undressed, but before he got into the bed, he stopped.

"I think I'm going to take a shower first. I smell like jail and you shouldn't have to…"

Her eyes started to tear again.

"Ah, geez," he said, "Not again. Just calm down and give me five minutes."

He hobbled to the bathroom and within seconds she heard the water running. A few minutes later, he emerged, a towel around his shoulder. She thought she'd never seen a more beautiful sight than a naked Greg House heading towards her.

He climbed into bed and pulled her into his arms. They kissed frantically at first, hands exploring each other's bodies, before they slowed down and began the exquisite process of making love to each other.

They spent the rest of that day in his bed, though he did get up to call for a pizza and threw a towel around his waist – at her insistence – to pay the delivery guy.

"I haven't had pizza since I left the States." She told him.

"Seriously?"

"Well, it's not exactly an island staple."

He laughed with her as they ate, then went back to bed.

As they lay holding each other in the dark later, he told her, "Julia, I really appreciate you doing this. Arranging for me to get out like this."

"Not a problem. You should have gotten a lawyer who would have arranged all of it for you. I called Wayne and found out what needed to be done."

"Oh, of course, Wayne."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"He's hot for you."

"Wayne? You're crazy!"

"Yeah, probably I am. But one thing I'm not is blind. I saw the way he looked at you. And the way he looked at me once he knew you were sleeping with me."

"But he's just Wayne. I've known him since I got to the island, he's not…"

"Trust me."

She was silent thinking about it, then shrugged. "Doesn't really matter. I'm not interested in him. I'm with you."

"Yeah, but not after Monday."

"That won't make a difference."

"Julia, I'll be in prison."

"So? It won't change how I feel about you."

"It should. No, it has to."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want you sitting here pining for me while I'm in prison."

"I won't be pining. I'll visit you and—"

"No! You will not visit me."

"Why not?"

"I don't want you there. You don't belong around the scum in a prison. And that includes me."

"Greg…"

"No, Julia. If you come, I won't see you. I don't want you anywhere near there. I want you to go back to San P and forget about me."

"I could never forget about you."

"Well, if you have to remember me, do it in the warmth and safety of the island with your friends around you."

She tried to hold the tears, but a few drops slid down her face. He knew it too.

"No reason to cry." He told her. "The best thing for you is to not be around me. I destroy everything I touch. Get out while you're still in one piece."

She knew that he wouldn't change his mind about this and logically, she really didn't want to be in New Jersey without him. But she wasn't giving up either. She wasn't giving up on him.

"Fine, if you don't want me to visit you, I won't. And if you don't want to see me when you get out, I guess there won't be anything I could do about that either. But I intend to write to you. Once a week for the entire time you're in prison."

"Julia…"

"Look, I don't care what you do with the letters. Stuff your mattress with them, read them aloud to your cell mate and laugh over them, burn them for warmth, I don't care. But I am writing to you and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"I won't read them."

"Didn't I just say that I don't care? I'm writing them anyway."

He shook his head. "You're a stubborn moron."

"Takes one to know one."

"Ooh, clever comeback."

"Not trying to be clever. Just want you to know that I care and I always will, no matter what you think or feel."

"You shouldn't. You need to stay as far away from me as you can."

"Too late for that."

**There is one more chapter for this part. I am working on Part 2, but it isn't finished yet. And when they keep taking off the show, I lose my inspiration - grrrr! Anyway, be assured I will get part 2 out to you as soon as I can. Thanks again for your reviews!**


	15. Chapter 15

**So sorry that it took me so long to post this. No excuses. Again, your lovely reviews make me smile.**

**This is the final chapter for Part 1.**

Chapter 15

They spent the entire weekend either making love or talking quietly about unimportant things. House made sure, if the conversation veered towards jail or the future, he changed the subject.

Monday morning came all too soon.

House was still asleep when Julia woke up. She lay on her side, House behind her with his arm around her waist. She gently stroked his arm and tried to keep the tears from coming. She knew he hated to see her cry and especially over him.

But the thought that she wouldn't see him for a year was too much for her. She knew he wanted her to forget about him totally, but she couldn't do that. She would abide by his wishes and not visit him in prison and she would return to San P, but she would not forget him. Nor would she give up on them.

She sniffed as she tried to stop the tears and a voice whispered in her ear, "What did I tell you about that?'

"I'm not crying." She said, as she sniffed again.

"Right. You're pathetic."

"I know." She turned over so that she was facing him. "You have to be there at nine. It's almost seven."

He nodded. "One more for the road?"

She smiled and kissed him.

Half an hour later, they were in the shower together, with only a bit of fondling, since they needed to get ready. Before they got out, she put her arms around him and held him close to her.

"Another minute, Greg."

He nuzzled her wet hair and held on just as tight.

At five minutes to nine, they walked into the courtroom. The District Attorney approached him.

"You just made it!" he said accusingly.

"What, am I supposed to be early to my own execution?"

"You're not getting executed, you're going to prison."

"Might as well be the same thing."

The court clerk called everyone to order and the judge entered. House sat down at the defense table, alone. Julia was in the seat right behind him.

She looked around the room as the judge talked to the clerk. It was almost empty. The next hearing wasn't until ten and those participants hadn't arrived yet. Then the door opened quietly and a dark haired man came in and sat in the back row. He looked towards House, then put his head down again.

Julia tapped House on the shoulder. She indicated the man in the back. "Do you know him?"

A look of both joy and sadness passed over his face. "Yeah, I know him."

"Who is…" she was cut off by the clerk calling everyone to order again.

The D.A. read the charges out. House was told to stand and state his plea.

"Guilty, your honor." He said.

The judge read out the agreed upon sentence and confirmed it with the D.A. Then he ordered the clerk to take House into custody.

Julia turned when she heard a noise behind her and saw the dark haired man leave the courtroom. Then she turned back to House and reached for his hand. She didn't try to hide her tears.

"Stop it. I'm not worth it."

"You are." She leaned forward and kissed him, then the clerk touched him on the shoulder.

"I love you." She told him.

"I know." He said, then ruined the Han/Leia moment by adding, "Don't. Go back to paradise and live with the nice people."

He turned and was led out. She stayed there watching until he disappeared and the door closed. Then she left the courtroom to somehow go on with her life.

**End of Part 1**

**I am working on the next part, but not getting as far as I'd hoped. I'm trying to parallel season 8, while adding my own story line and Fox's decison to air racing instead of House messed me up a bit. But I promise to get some more written and get Part 2 posted as soon as I can. I am the sort of writer that won't post until I have at least 2/3 of a story written so that I can be sure that my readers won't be left with an unfinished story. That's why I can't start posting yet. But I have a pretty good idea where it's going so, if TPTB cooperate, I should be able to continue it.**

**Once again, thanks for reading. I love you guys!**


	16. Chapter 16

Sorry, this isn't a chapter, but just a note to my readers. I forgot to add this note to the last chapter. The next part of the story will be** Retribution 2: Second Chances**. If you are interested in reading it and don't already have me on alert, that's the title to look for. I don't know if there will be any other House stories after this. I guess it will depend on how series finale inspires me (or not).

If you do have me on author alert, don't be surprised if you get an alert for a story that isn't House. I am currently working on a Big Bang Theory story and have a second one in the wings. I know, I know, going from a drama to a comedy, what am I thinking?

(Although I do think House and Sheldon have a lot in common and I'd love to try a crossover, since I'd love to get them in the same room.)

If you're not a fan of that show, don't feel that you have to read it. I understand, as I don't read anything for shows I don't watch.

If you are a viewer of TBBT, be aware that for at least this first story I am being disloyal to my OC roots and doing a Shenny story. I'm sorry, but I had to write one. When a story is in your head, you HAVE to write it. The other story that I have in the wings is an OC story.

Of course, for House, I am OC all the way, forever and ever, LOL.

Anyway, thanks for listening. Sorry I didn't add this to the last chapter. I didn't feel like reposting, since some people wouldn't read it.

Thanks! Hope you enjoy Part 2 (when it comes) and my other stories if you choose to read.


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